


First Impressions

by Mellie_Art



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Constantjokes, Eventual Smut, First Meeting, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:37:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24820150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellie_Art/pseuds/Mellie_Art
Summary: Credit toRedxMullerwho provided a huge amount of inspiration for the first part of this fic
Relationships: John Constantine/Joker (DCU)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to [RedxMuller](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedxMuller/pseuds/RedxMuller) who provided a huge amount of inspiration for the first part of this fic

It started with a phone call.

Surprisingly normal considering who they were and what they did but sometimes even an exorcist/demonologist/whatever the fuck it said on his card these days and a homicidal clown needed a touch of normality in their lives. Or whatever passed as  _ normal _ for them.

John had never met said homicidal clown before but when he picked up his phone and heard a shrill yet strangely melodic voice through the receiver, he knew exactly who it was. Anyone who’d ever visited Gotham, and plenty who hadn’t, would.

And his first thought was  _ hang up _ .  _ Just hang the fuck up _ . It didn’t matter how or why the Joker had his number, nothing good was going to come of it. But a lack of response apparently didn’t matter because the clown was already yammering on about boxes and poltergeists, and even though John’s finger was hovering over the end call button, he couldn’t quite bring himself to press it. He got that feeling he sometimes did, deep in his gut, when it felt like the universe had him on a leash - or choke chain, more like. It was telling him not to ignore this and, the more John heard, the more he was inclined to agree. The Joker was bad news but even the possibility of the Joker with a ghost - or, god forbid,  _ demon _ \- was...no. Just no.

So that was how John ended up in Amusement Mile, in the Joker’s bedroom of all places, trying to trap a rogue demon inside an antique jewellery box. 

In person, the Joker wasn’t what John expected. Photos did him no favours at all, but, with motion, he became strangely...was elegant the word? Whatever it was it worked. In fact, at the right angle, John might go so far as to say he was attractive - in a gangly,  _ very _ unconventional sort of way.

The appreciation seemed to be mutual, although it was the magic catching the clown’s attention more than John himself. It was probably the only predictable thing about him, drawn like so many before him like a moth to the lights, colours and, most of all, power. John had to wave him back several times during the ritual, which was a nuisance but it did feed his ego; it was always nice to have your work appreciated, even if it was by a guy as likely to slit your throat as shake your hand. 

And the slit throat became a tad more likely when John told the Joker he’d be taking the jewellery box with him. Watching the charm visibly drain from the guy, to have the heat of those eyes narrow in on him, John felt a chill run along his spine.

“Why?” Joker asked, resting his hand on the box, which sat on the edge of the bed.

“Because there’s a demon trapped inside. Or did you miss that bit?”

Seeing the sharp arch of Joker’s eyebrow, John made a mental note to tone the sarcasm down. A bit.

“No, I did not  _ miss that bit _ ,” Joker replied, tone suddenly unsettlingly cool, before immediately warming back up. “But I still don’t see why I’ve gotta part with it. This wasn’t easy to get my hands on, breaking into the Gotham Museum ain’t no picnic, y’know. It took months of planning! I had to steal blueprints and find the right men - and to paraphrase Feargal Sharkey, good men aren’t an easy find…”

The Joker paused and turned to the put upon blonde next to him, who might’ve been called Johnny. “Wait, was it a good  _ man  _ or a good  _ heart _ ?” 

John decided to tune out for a while.

“So can’t you just, I dunno... _ decant it _ ? I’m sure there’s a flask around here somewhere.”

Decant. Like it was a cup of coffee.

John took a deep breath. 

“Look at the box. See those markings? It was either made or adapted to hold what’s now in there. A flask isn’t gonna cut it. And I’m not about to let a demon wreak havoc across this city just so you can keep a pretty trinket.”

The Joker pouted - actually  _ pouted _ \- he began tapping his fingers. “I dunno...sounds like a good time to me.”

“Not to me,” John said, trying to push down the growing sense of agitation. The box couldn’t stay here and while going toe to toe with the Joker wasn’t exactly on John’s bucket list, he’d do it if he had to. “I’d be the one cleaning up the mess.”

A standoff of sorts began, although it felt to John more like he was an insect being viewed through a magnifying glass, pinned into place by those eyes. Someone else used to look at John that way, someone dangerous and frightening, eyes pitch black rather than dazzling green, and John had never been able to decide whether he liked it or not. Sometimes he did,  _ a lot _ . Other times, not so much.

Eventually, Joker tightened his grip on the box and John tensed. Then, with a grin that was far too pleasant, the box was handed over.

“Fine, Constantine, you win. Now go before I change my mind.”

John didn’t need to be told twice. He shoved the jewellery box into his bag, nodded, and walked quickly towards the exit.

He felt those eyes on him the whole way.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The next time they met, it was on the streets of Gotham and John couldn’t shake the feeling that the universe once again had a guiding hand in it. Really, what were the chances of them both stumbling towards the exact same corner of the exact same street at exactly the same time? 

John didn’t recognise the Joker at first. For a start, half of his face was covered in hair and what could be seen was smeared with makeup. He also wasn’t wearing a coat. Or...shoes? 

John’s first instinct was to hide but -

“Con-Job!”

Yeah.

Joker did a sort of stagger-hop-run towards John and flung an arm around his neck before he could get away.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you! Your timing is  _ impeccable _ .” Joker’s words were slurred but he didn’t look (or smell) drunk. Punch-drunk, maybe. “Now, if you could be a dear and do some of that voodoo stuff to make a clown disappear, that’d be grand.”

John frowned until he heard voices, angry ones, not too far away and he was left with a choice: scarper or help. He  _ really  _ wanted to do the former but, judging by just how close the shouts were, he wasn’t going to get far and the last thing John wanted was to get dragged into whatever the hell this was. In the end, it’d probably be easier to help.

“Fuck it,” John muttered as he pulled Joker with him to the alley behind them. Good thing the clown didn’t weigh anything because he wasn’t doing a damn thing to help.

Tucked away in the dark, John murmured an incantation under his breath and, with a flash of light, the air around them shimmered before going still. Turning to face Joker, he pressed a finger to his lips and then watched as the gang appeared, still loud, still  _ very  _ angry, and focused everything on making the spell hold. It was a simple spell but he’d been boozing since the afternoon so he wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders.

It seemed to be working, though and the group was almost out of sight when, of course, the clown had to make everything ten times more difficult than it needed to be by stumbling forward and laughing at them.

John pulled Joker back immediately and held him in place with an arm around the waist, throwing a death glare at the back of his head. To Joker’s credit, he did seem to realise it maybe hadn’t been the best move and covered his mouth with his hand to stifle the rest of the laughter, although it might’ve been too little too late.

Two of the men, who were _fucking_ _huge_ , stepped into the alleyway looking for the source of the laughter. They were like lions hunting prey and John really didn’t fancy being supper so he clenched his free hand, ready to throw some defensive magic their way if need be. 

As one came within inches of touching them, John could feel Joker squirm in his grip, struggling to hold in his laughter, and John was forced to place his hand over Joker’s just to keep that damn mouth shut. John wasn’t getting his ass kicked on a madman’s behalf.

After what felt like hours (it was probably only a minute), the men walked away but when Joker tried to move, John held him in place. He wanted to be sure they were gone. If they weren’t, John wasn’t sure he’d be able to cast another concealment spell in time. 

Joker bit him.

“Ow! What the fuck?” 

Joker fell against the opposite wall as John inspected the damage. Teeth marks ran in a curve (like a smile) between his thumb and forefinger, not deep enough to break the skin but close.

“What the hell was that for?”

“You were getting handsy,” Joker said through the giggles. “Not that I mind but I prefer a guy to buy me dinner first.”

John rolled his eyes as he rubbed the bite mark. “Yeah, well, that ain’t happening now. Your friends are gone so you can piss off, too.”

Joker tutted and replied, “Some knight in shining armor  _ you _ are. Where’s a goddamn Bat when you need one..?”

John was about to shoot back another remark but, when he finally looked up and saw just how much trouble the clown was having, it died on his lips. If the wall hadn’t been there, Joker would’ve been flat on his ass. 

And, as John took in the state of him - blood mixed with lipstick running down his chin, torn shirt held together by only a couple of buttons and a left ankle that wasn’t sitting right - he got the feeling that he might’ve just saved the life of one of Gotham’s most wanted. 

Maybe he should’ve just let that demon run amok.

“What happened?” John ended up asking, despite himself. 

Joker, who’d given up on the whole standing thing and had slid down to the ground, threw John a grin and, again, John was caught by the intensity in those eyes. So much like Manor...John didn’t like what it did to him. 

“Past indiscretions coming back to haunt me. But I showed them!”

Joker giggled and held up his fists and John couldn’t help laughing. Joker was taking it all surprisingly well. Regular beatings from Batman had obviously done their work. 

“Sure you did,” John replied, rolling his eyes again. 

Joker rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes, a hint of the pain he was clearly in beginning to show. He lifted his arm to point at John and the effort behind it was clear.

“You got a car? Could really use a ride.”

“Sorry, mate. Ambulance do?”

Joker snorted. “You gonna foot the bill? Besides, they’d cuff me and have me in the nuthouse faster than you can say Tylenol.”

Right. 

Joker pressed his hands to the floor and once again tried to stand and John...

He should’ve walked away. It wasn’t like he owed the clown anything. But watching Joker struggle, for some reason it didn’t sit right with John to just leave him like that. There was also Tall, Dark and Batty to consider. He always did get  _ weird  _ about the clown.

So, taking a deep breath and rubbing his hands down his face, John held out his hand.

“Where we headed? That funhouse of yours?”

Joker eyed the hand before taking it and took full advantage of John by leaning all of his weight against him.

“Nooo, that place got raided forever ago. I’ve got new digs, not far from here actually. Onward...uhh... _ that way _ !”

John wasn’t sure Joker actually knew where he was going but he followed the direction anyway. 

It wasn’t the easiest walk. Joker might not’ve been heavy but he was definitely - what was the word? -  _ awkward _ to hold. There was either too much of him or too little and it was in all the wrong places. The limp didn’t help, either, it was like dragging along a life size rag doll. But they got there eventually. Thankfully.  _ Surprisingly _ given Joker’s shitty directions. 

The “new digs” was an apartment block close to the narrows that didn’t look as though it’d been lived in for years. Very plain, very ordinary. A far cry from Amusement Mile. 

“It ain’t much, but it’s home,” Joker said.

John hoped he didn’t live on the top floor. So, of course, he did.

If dragging the clown along flat streets had been a challenge, it was nothing compared to dragging his useless ass up four flights of stairs. Joker kept stumbling and stopping to yap about whatever pointless shit came into his head and John came very close to knocking him out and carrying him the rest of the way. But that would’ve required the sort of effort a body abused by a lifetime of fags and booze wasn’t capable of. 

By the time they reached the top, John was grateful to let the wall hold Joker while he took a breather. 

Joker caught his attention by knocking against the door. 

“Could ya be a peach and get this open for me? I forgot my key.” Joker grinned, probably aiming for sheepishness but on him it looked, well, John wasn’t sure but he knew he had to look away. “I say  _ key _ , it was a hairpin, heh.”

Straightening up, John moved to the door and gripped the handle as he whispered an incantation. It swung open with a creak that suggested it wasn’t going to be attached to the frame for much longer. 

“Need you to teach me that one,” Joker said as he stepped (stumbled) inside. “Coming?”

It was tempting, if only to sit down for five minutes. But John had had far too much clown for one night. 

Joker shrugged. “Suit yourself, Con-Job. But c’mere before you go.”

Joker crooked a finger and, for some reason, John obeyed. Joker’s hand landed heavily on his shoulder, nails digging in ever so slightly as their mouths came together in a kiss. It was brief but firm and made John’s stomach do something funny.

“See you around,” Joker said, wiping away the blood and lipstick from John’s lips before gently pushing him away.

The door closed and John, slightly dazed by the whole experience, turned and made his way back downstairs. He needed to get drunk again.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

“Of all the shitholes in all the towns, you had to walk into mine.”

John, halfway through his second beer, turned to his left to see Joker leaning against the bar, grinning at him. 

“Well, I say that but  _ I _ followed  _ you _ , so…”

Laughter, and John didn’t know whether to laugh back or leg it. Maybe both. But if Joker was following him, that meant he wanted something and, knowing what he did of the clown, John’s legs weren’t going to get him very far. 

So he settled for doing absolutely nothing as Joker sat on the stool beside him. The bartender gave the smallest of double takes before grabbing a cocktail glass and mixing up the most obnoxiously fluorescent drink John had ever seen. Joker downed almost half of it in one go. 

John chuckled. “One of those nights, eh?”

“You could say that,” Joker replied, carefully dabbing his mouth with the napkin provided. 

And because there was was no point dragging this out any longer than it needed to be, John asked, “So, what do you want? I assume it’s not the pleasure of my company.”

“Ah, well, that’s where you’re wrong! The pleasure of your company is  _ exactly  _ why I’m here. Batman’s currently, how shall we say...” Joker waved his hand in the air, as if the word was hovering above him, just waiting to be caught. “Indisposed. So, right now, that makes you the most interesting person in Gotham.”

“Lucky me,” John said.  _ Lucky fucking me _ . 

“I’d say so,” Joker replied, finishing off the other half of his drink. “Since the rest of your drinks are on the house.”

Joker snapped his fingers, grabbing the bartender’s attention and pointed to his and John’s glasses. In a matter of minutes, they were full. 

Now there was always the chance, or near certainty in this case, that Joker was up to something. But John wasn’t one to turn down a free drink, even from wanted criminals. 

Speaking of which…

“Should you be in here?” John asked, looking around. “I mean, it’s a bit out in the open, innit?”

Joker’s eyes followed John’s, circling the bar before coming back to John.

“You’ve heard the saying snitches get stitches, right?”

John nodded.

Joker leaned in and said in a stage whisper, “So have they.”

He laughed and John felt a shiver run down his spine. He was pretty sure there was a warning in there for him too. 

“So, where is Batsy, then?” John asked, ready to change the subject, and tried not to cringe as he watched Joker down his cocktail. He could almost taste the sugar just by looking at it. “You finally done him in?”

“Who, me?” Joker replied, hand pressed dramatically to his chest. “Never! No, the dear ol’ Bat had a run in with Bane and that  _ never  _ goes well. But he’ll be right as rain in a week or two.”

John had never met Bane but he’d heard enough to grimace. Hopefully the back had been left intact, this time.

As he started his second drink, John noticed Joker watching him.

“So...how do  _ you  _ know  _ Batsy _ ?”

There was a slight edge to the question and something unreadable in Joker’s eyes, leaving John to wonder if he’d made a deadly faux pas.

Not looking up from his drink, John answered. “We cross paths every now and then when my work coincides with the cape ‘n’ tights brigade’s.”

Joker grimaced like he just caught a whiff of something nasty. “You’re not part of the league, are you?”

John mirrored the expression. “No. But they come in useful sometimes.”

Joker nodded, “That they do.” and wiggled his glass at the bartender. Round three.

If someone had told John, when he got his first phone call from the Joker, that they’d end up sharing small talk in a bar, he might not have called it impossible (weirder things had happened) but he would’ve considered it highly unlikely. But here he was, drinking and chatting and eventually dancing with the clown like they were old friends. Joker was very easy to get on with when he wanted to be but, while John felt himself relax in Joker’s company, he never let his guard down fully. This was  _ the Joker _ , after all.

-

John hadn’t planned to get drunk. With someone like the Joker around it was wise to keep your wits about you. But there was a saying about plans and getting laid or something along those lines and the drinks kept coming so, alas, John got drunk. Very drunk. So drunk in fact that he didn’t even realise just  _ how drunk  _ he was until he found himself pressed up against a wall outside the bar with Joker’s tongue halfway down his throat. And it wasn’t until he was kissing back and his hands were slipping under Joker’s shirt that John asked himself  _ what the fuck am I doing?  _

The thought was forgotten when Joker started grinding up against his thigh.

“Where you staying?” Joker asked, breath warm against John’s ear. There was one last,  _ very _ brief moment of deliberation before John took hold of Joker’s wrist and pulled him out of the alley.

The motel wasn’t far, just a few blocks away, but that was still too far for Joker who kept kissing John and more than a few walls had to support their weight as their hands and mouths wandered. By the time they reached the motel, John’s belt was gone and only one button held his shirt closed. Joker was somehow still fully dressed but John planned to fix that as soon as possible. 

There was a horrible moment when John thought he’d lost his key card but, after a lot of groping, Joker managed to find it and the door was barely open before John had his trousers around his ankles and Joker’s lips around his cock. 

“Ohhh, fuck…” John moaned, sliding his hand into Joker’s hair and rocking his hips. 

It didn’t take him long to come.

Tipping his head back against the wall, John let out a deep, satisfied sigh and -

“ _ FUCK! _ ”

Joker had bitten him.  _ Again _ !

“What the fucking hell?!” John cried, shoving Joker to the floor. Fucking demented little asshole…

Joker didn’t say anything, just looked up at him with a filthy grin as he crawled closer and John covered his crotch with his hands, angling it away from him. The bite was at the very top of his thigh, barely an inch away from his cock.

“You tasted yummy, I couldn’t help myself,” Joker said, still grinning, climbing to his feet. He pressed himself up against John and slid his hands into John’s hair, kissing along his jaw, his cheek, his mouth.

“It  _ hurt _ ,” John whined, even as he returned the kisses.

“Sobered you up, though, huh?” Joker’s hand went down to the bite and started massaging it, which felt...yeah, that felt good. 

“Little bit,” John grumbled before they both fell quiet, kissing and stripping off the rest of their clothes. 

Not much more was said after that, beyond Joker’s cries of  _ harder _ and  _ faster _ as John fucked him into the floor. He was definitely one of John’s noisier lays and there were going to be some complaints from the neighbours come morning, but that only turned John on even more and he came for the second time, Joker following right after, with Joker’s nails dragging down his back.

Collapsed on top of Joker, John panted against his neck and shuddered when he felt Joker’s tongue run along his ear. When he started giggling, Joker stopped to ask what was funny.

“Nothing...nothing. I just -” John lifted himself up on his elbows to look down at the clown. “Didn’t think I’d be adding the Joker to my list of bedmates.”

Joker grinned up at him. “Didn’t think I’d ever be fucking a…wait, what are you? Exorcist? Magician?”

“Bit of both,” John replied with a kiss before pulling out of him to hunt down a cigarette. 

Lighting it up and taking a long, much needed drag, John stumbled over to the bed and pretty much fell onto it, keeping to one side to make it clear Joker was welcome to join him. 

“So, where do I rank on this list of yours?” Joker asked and John took a good look at him. He was still on the floor but sat up now and, even with his whole strange, gangly body on full display, John had to admit he looked pretty good. Joker knew what he had and how to work it. And work it he did as he crawled towards the bed and onto it, hovering over John on hands and knees. 

“Actually, don’t answer that. I’m not done with you, yet.”

Joker took the cigarette from John’s mouth and helped himself to a few drags as he sat back on John’s thighs. And, despite having just finished, Joker’s words and the way he looked at John as he said them (those eyes were fucking dangerous) made John’s body react. Which Joker noted with a wiggle of an eyebrow.

“I expect to come at least two more times before I leave this room.”

“Twice?” John laughed, resting his hands on Joker’s hips and stroking his skin idly with his thumbs. “I mean, I’ll do my best, love, but no promises.”

Joker smiled and they took their time finishing the cigarette before Joker leaned down and took John’s cock in his mouth again, teasing it until it was hard.

The rest of the night (and a decent part of the morning) was spent giving Joker the orgasms that he craved. And, yeah,  _ crave  _ was the word. He was insatiable, especially when John threw a bit of magic into the mix, pulling the sort of sounds out of Joker that wouldn’t be forgotten in a hurry. It was one hell of a sight to see, a man who regularly brought an entire city to its knees rendered a helpless, trembling mess on his bed, begging John for more, and any lingering doubts John had at the beginning of all this (as well as drunkenness) were long gone.

Sunlight was visible through the curtains as they fucked slowly for the last time and, when it was over, when they were left panting for air, lying on a bed soaked in sweat and cum (as well as a few singe marks from the overeager use of magic), John couldn’t do much more than stare up at the ceiling and smile. He hadn’t had a session like that for a long time, and definitely not after that much drink, and gave himself a mental high five for the effort. Good on ya, Johnny boy.

He heard Joker hum and closed his eyes as lips wandered all over his body. There was no biting this time, thank god, and they shared long, lazy kisses before Joker tucked himself into John’s side and, for the first time, was quiet and still.

-

John didn’t realise he’d fallen asleep until he jolted awake god knew how much later to find himself alone. His body ached and, Christ, so did his head and the sheets were sticky as he lifted himself off the bed. He made a mental note to leave a very generous tip when he checked out. 

Hunting down his cigarettes, John found a note tucked into the packet.

**_Until next time,_ **

**_J_ **

**_xoxo_ **

John put the note back into his pocket and smiled. 

“Looking forward to it.”


End file.
